


Lost Keys

by PegLegPI



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: Post-Troubled Blood, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26909278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PegLegPI/pseuds/PegLegPI
Summary: Meeting Cormoran Strike had been rather like unexpectedly stumbling upon an old key that she’d lost ages ago.
Relationships: Matthew Cunliffe/Robin Ellacott, Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	Lost Keys

**Author's Note:**

> Very minor Troubled Blood spoilers, mentions of rape, very introspective.

It was a rare occasion that Robin would allow herself to admit what her subconscious knew to be an absolute truth; that meeting Cormoran Strike had been rather like unexpectedly stumbling upon an old key that she’d lost ages ago. 

She’d always been a bit of a risk taker, a bit brazen and ready to leap off a ledge higher than even the bravest of her brothers would dare to try. She had loved the feeling of adrenaline running through her body, making her heart speed up and her stomach drop pleasurably. That was who she’d been before a pair of gloved hands reached from the shadows of a stairwell and dragged her away from herself. When a man in a gorilla mask wrapped his gloved hands around her throat, the girl she had been had gone limp and died. Someone else emerged from that stairwell, some twenty minutes later, and that girl was afraid, cautious, she valued having her feet planted firmly on the ground. She hadn’t felt as if the key belonged to her anymore, so she’d left it where she’d dropped it. The only time she had even remotely felt the ghost of the girl she’d been before was during her advanced driving courses, when she practiced in her uncle’s field. 

Before the stairwell, Robin had been outgrowing her relationship. She was at university meeting new people and making new friends; Matthew had gone to Bath, where he was doing the same. She felt as if they were growing apart and had been on the verge of breaking up with him. After the stairwell, she had needed to lose herself within that relationship. He felt safe and comfortable, and she had needed the familiarity of his body when she was so desperately trying to reclaim her own. 

Matthew Cunliffe had turned out to be a total shit, she knew that now, but back then all she could see was that he had stayed by her side through the darkest of times. He stuck by her through her therapy sessions, through post traumatic stress, panic attacks, and despite her shaky relationship with sex. His understanding had meant the world to her then, and she felt guilt nearly every time he’d tried to touch her and received a flinch. There had been times, loads of them, when he’d been inside her and her traitorous mind would begin to show her short clips of everything that had happened to her body in that stairwell. Her eyelids would squeeze themselves shut in those moments, though that did nothing to stop the searing hot tears that leaked from them; she had to ask Matthew to stop. Several times, when they’d first tried being intimate again after, she’d even had panic attacks in which she’d try desperately to fight Matthew off her. Those left her drained and sobbing; but he’d held her through them, and she had felt so supported and loved. Perhaps that was why she’d begun backing down during arguments, being quick to apologize even when it’d been _him_ in the wrong? Didn’t he deserve her understanding and compassion when he had given so much of his to her? 

Of course, it was possible he’d been so understanding about her complicated feelings toward sex because he hadn’t stopped having it. He’d been sleeping with Sarah Shadlock that whole time, when she’d thought him to be the perfect boyfriend who wouldn’t dare hurt her; but she didn’t know that then and she believed herself to be genuinely happy. He asked her to move to the city with him, proposed to her at Piccadilly Circus with a gorgeous sapphire and diamond ring in front of the Greek God of love, and she’d seen it all as nothing less than magic. That feeling had carried her across London to Denmark Street, where the temp agency that employed her had sent her on a new assignment. It carried her up the metal staircase and to a cramped landing outside the office of C.B. Strike, Private Detective. Even there, staring at the letters etched into the door and feeling her heart suddenly lurch at the memory of a closely guarded childhood ambition, she somehow connected the unexpected moment to Matthew. 

One moment she’d been standing there thinking about Matthew and magic, while reaching her hand out for the handle, and in the next moment the door was being wrenched open. His body slammed into hers with such a force, it sent her windmilling on the edge of death. He made a wild grab for her that landed, rather painfully, on the better part of her left breast and that was that. The transfer had been made and the key had gone from Strike back to her.

Robin had always thought herself a very clever and observant person. It was only her observations about the man in the gorilla mask that had secured a conviction against him. Wardle had been thoroughly impressed by her attention to detail and her keen observations about the man who’d delivered a package, addressed to her, that had contained a severed leg. All of their clients were always trying to steal her away from the agency and a job she’d secretly dreamed of since she was a child; and yet, for all of her observational skill and attention to detail, for as clever as she thought she was, she hadn’t known that Matthew had been cheating. Not the first time and not the second time either. Not until Sarah had left a diamond earring in their marital bed for her to find. Nor did she realize that she had acquired the old, tarnished key until long after the fact. It took her even longer to figure out that her boss had somehow found it and kept it safe until he happened across its owner. She was certain he never even realized he’d had it and that he’d passed it back to her without realizing he’d done it; and she certainly hadn’t been aware that she’d been using it all the while since that very first day. She hadn’t realized that she’d been sliding it into long forgotten locks and letting out bits and pieces of herself that she’d shoved away all those years ago. Not until those released bits and pieces started causing trouble in her life.

Matthew, on the other hand, had seemed to sense it straight away. Matthew must have seen a shift behind her eyes that hadn’t been there before that Monday in March. If seeing the words Private Detective etched in the glass had lit a spark somewhere inside of her, then tagging along with Strike and being part of the Lula Landry case had fanned the flame; and all the while Matthew had felt the winds of change. She had told Matthew that she thought Strike to be a bit sad, living in his office and barely scraping by, but the truth was that she’d been enamored with him from the start. His life certainly didn’t seem glamorous by any stretch of the imagination, but there was something about it that she found tantalizing. His days were unpredictable, his life seemed rather exciting, and she’d been drawn to his mind immediately. She could no longer deny that.

Matthew hadn’t liked any of it. He hadn’t liked the idea of her being alone in the office with another man, hadn’t trusted Cormoran to respect her or her relationship. Of course, Matthew hadn’t respected it either, because if he had he wouldn’t have started sleeping with Sarah again. He had, of course, been projecting his guilt and bad behavior onto Cormoran. Something about Cormoran Strike had made him deeply jealous and insecure. Part of it was, obviously, his guilt about cheating; but perhaps it was also that he’d sensed somehow that Cormoran had given her something that he, Matthew, could’ve never hoped to give her. 

While she’d been busy running around London with Strike, opening unseen doors with an unseen key, and becoming the woman she had always wanted to be, Matthew had been changing too. He had discovered his jealous streak, his need for control, and his previously unacknowledged desire for a meek and agreeable wife. The kind of wife that would leave her job once the children came. The kind that would hang prettily off his arm at company parties, making friends with the wives of his colleagues and helping him network. The kind that did everything with the aim of helping him climb the ladder, while she climbed dutifully behind him. 

Robin was no longer that woman, she wasn’t sure if she had ever been. She couldn’t climb behind him. She wanted to walk beside someone, to be a true partner rather than just a support player. She wanted to be valued as an equal rather than an accessory. 

“Alright, Robin?” He asked, staring at her from the doorway. 

His voice startled her a bit, making her jump out of her thoughts and back to the partners’ desk in their shared office. “Yeah,” she said, laughing a little at herself, “just lost in my thoughts a bit. Are you ready?” 

He nodded; the hint of a smile etched upon his lips. “Let’s go then.” 

Rising from her chair, Robin couldn’t quite believe that she had let herself slip so far into thoughts she normally steered quite clear of, though she did acknowledge that her mind had been veering in that direction more frequently since her thirtieth birthday. She turned away from him as she slipped into her coat, trying to hide the redness she felt blooming across her cheeks. She had been caught just as she was on the precipice of admitting to herself that the partner she wanted to walk beside, in fact, was the partner who was making his way through the office toward the landing where, several years ago, he’d returned her lost key and set her on the path to changing herself and her life. 

Her embarrassment over her inappropriate thoughts still stained her cheeks as she emerged from the inner office. Her eyes downcast, she tucked her hair behind her ears as she slipped past him to stand on the landing while he flipped off the light and locked the office door. It wasn’t until they were on the sidewalk, headed in the direction of the Tottenham, that he said, “Penny for your thoughts?”

A sudden burst of surprised laughter escaped her, and her heart beat wildly inside her chest. She wondered, briefly, if she’d somehow given herself away; but a quick glance at him put her anxieties to rest. He looked perfectly relaxed, casual, as he walked beside her lighting a cigarette. If she’d given herself away, he gave her no indication of knowing she’d done it; so, she gave him an easy smile as they rounded the corner and answered, “Some other time.” 

**Author's Note:**

> A long time ago, I used to write all the time. I wrote fan fic for a couple of different shows I liked, mostly Veronica Mars, and I loved it. Then some things went sideways in my life and I'm not kidding when I tell you that I haven't written a single thing for the last 11 years. So, with that said, thank you for reading this! I would also like to thank LulaIsAKitten for encouraging me to get my mojo back when I messaged her about this idea. I'm not quite sure my mojo is back, but I did my best with an idea that wouldn't leave me alone.


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